“I have had your poem little more than a week:
yesterday I carefully perused it (not having had leisure before), and should
this evening have written to you, even if your letter had not arrived.

“There are in this poem (which appears to me an
alteration of that whereof you formerly sent me an extract) unquestionable
marks both of genius and the power of expressing it. I have no doubt that you
will succeed in attaining the fame after which you aspire; but you have yet to
learn how to plan a poem; when you acquire this, I am sure you will be able to
execute it.

“This is my advice to you. Lay this poem aside as one
whose defects are incurable. Plan another, and be especially careful in
planning it. See that your circumstances naturally produce each other, and that
there be nothing in the story which could be taken away without dislocating the
whole fabric. Ask yourself the question, is this incident of any use? does it
result from what goes before? does it influence what is to follow? is it a
fruit or an excrescence? Satisfy yourself completely with the plan

266

LIFE AND CORRESPONDENCE

Ætat. 35.

before you begin to execute it. I do not mean to say
that the detail must be filled up, only make the skeleton perfect. There is no
danger of your getting into the fault of common-place authors, otherwise I
would recommend you to read some of the bad epic writers, for the sake of
learning what to avoid in the composition of a story.

“In your execution you are too exuberant in ornament,
and resemble the French engravers, who take off the attention from the subject
of their prints by the flowers and trappings of the foreground. This makes you
indistinct; but distinctness is the great charm of narrative poetry: see how
beautifully it is exemplified in Spencer, our great English master of
narrative, whom you cannot study too much, nor love too dearly. Your first book
reminded me of an old pastoral poet—William
Brown: he has the same fault of burying his story in flowers; it
is one of those faults which are to be wished for in the writings of all young
poets. I am satisfied that your turn of thought and feeling is for the higher
branch of the art, and not for lighter subjects. Your language would well suit
the drama: have your thoughts ever been turned to it? . . . .

“If, when you have planned another poem, you think
proper to send me the plan, I will comment upon it, while it may be of use to
point out its defects. It would give me great pleasure to be of any service to
a man of genius, and such I believe you to be. If business ever brings you this
way, let me see you. Should I ever travel through Rotherham, I

Ætat. 35.

OF ROBERT SOUTHEY.

267

will find you out. I have spoken so plainly and freely
of your defects, that you can have no doubt of my sincerity when I conclude by
saying go on and you will prosper.

“Yours respectfully, and with the best wishes,

R. Southey.

“One thing more: forget this poem while you are
planning another, lest you spoil that for the sake of appropriating
materials from this.”